


Kintsugi, the art of the broken.

by greysora



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Mafia member Seonghwa, Nurse Hongjoong, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:01:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25513225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greysora/pseuds/greysora
Summary: 「What kind of stranger does Hongjoong allow into the comfort of his home? What kind of stranger does he gently wipe dried blood away from his beautiful lips, or hold an ice pack tenderly against the bruised skin of deep obsidian eyes?What kind of stranger has had Hongjoong pressed up against the wall, swallowing each of his gasps as his fingers find home on every part of his body?What kind of stranger does he wrap his arms around tightly, when the world caves in on them and everything feels like it'll fall apart?」
Relationships: Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 14
Kudos: 226





	Kintsugi, the art of the broken.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi to anyone who reads this,
> 
> This fic is something I've worked on for months, and then abandoned for some too. My initial plan was to expand on the plot and make this work chaptered with more detail, but after losing interest and pace in kpop and being hit by a huge writer's block, I decided to keep it a small one-shot. I wanted to post this as soon as I could because I felt like I couldn't focus on anything else without giving this story some sort of clean up and ending.
> 
> With all that said, this will probably be my last work in the kpop world. you're free to unsuscribe if my future works will not fit into your interests! That's perfectly okay.
> 
> I hope this story is worth the read, and let me know what you think at the end, thank you!

The rays of a new day paint the sky in a grey gloom and it's a perfect match for Hongjoong's current mood. The apartment is dark, save for the slices of light from the street lamps that slip through the curtains of the apartment. Hongjoong doesn't bother turning on the lights, instead he immediately rushes to lay the body limp against him on the couch as gently as he can.

" _What the fuck,_ Seonghwa?" He hisses at him, hands frantically wandering over the limp figure against the couch. It's only when his hand comes back _sticky_ and the smell of metal fills his nose that his eyes widen with panic, and he rushes to his feet to fetch his medical kit and switch the light on. The brightness blinds him for a moment, but he doesn't seem to care as he drops hard onto his knees besides the couch once more.

 _"Fuck...I— what the fuck,"_ he swallows, "Seonghwa— stay with me, I–"

Hongjoong harshly blinks away at the tears threatening to slide down his cheeks. 

This isn't the first time Hongjoong has dealt with blood, he's a fucking _nurse._ But fuck, things are different when _Seonghwa_ is the patient.

His hands tremble noticeably as he rapidly unbuttons the other's shirt, assessing the damage. The source of bleeding is his right shoulder, and Hongjoong immediately stills.

"Seonghwa– _Seonghwa!"_ Hongjoong urgently cradles his face.

Seonghwa doesn't bat an eyelash as Hongjoong yells his name. 

So he slaps his cheek. Once, twice, three times before Seonghwa responds. It's a breathy gasp filled with unfiltered pain, and it _tears_ at Hongjoong but he needs to know. 

"Seonghwa– were you _shot?"_

He repeats the question twice before Seonghwa manages a weak nod, and Hongjoong flies to grab his cell phone. He punches in Yeosang's number, and _prays_ the younger was available to answer.

If anything the doctor would be able to help patch Seonghwa back up, Hongjoong had never dealt with bullet wounds, he wasn't an emergency based nurse so what did he know? Nothing, besides the fact that this was the worst he's seen Seonghwa look.

This isn't the first time Hongjoong has dealt with the aftermath of Seonghwa's runs, but this was the first time Hongjoong had an almost unconscious Seonghwa on his couch. 

_"Hello?"_ Comes a static voice.

"Yeosang— thank _fuck,_ I— Seonghwa— shot" Hongjoong is not one to panic, but when it came to Seonghwa, his heart fucking trembles.

 _"Calm down, Hongjoong, how is he looking?"_ Yeosang sounds tired, and a tiny part of Hongjoong feels guilty for calling him at such an hour. It vanishes though, because Seonghwa's freaking life could possibly be on the line here.

Hongjoong quickly describes everything in detail, attempting to keep the tremble in his hands out of his voice.

He lets Yeosang's calm voice guide him through aiding Seonghwa, who remains somewhat unconscious. He is lucky, Yeosang mentions, because the angle of the shot allowed the bullet to only bury itself near the surface of the skin, and not further. He's lucky, because nothing vital or alarming was wounded. 

It's been a little over an hour once Hongjoong whispers words of gratitude and hangs up. Seonghwa lays in clean clothes, all bandaged and cleared up to actually sleep. Hongjoong wants to move him to the bedroom, but he doesn't think his own body can carry any weight, and it's not long before his own eyes slip shut. His upper body drapes over the couch, legs sprawled on the cold floor and his fingers remain tightly interlocked with Seonghwa's own larger ones.

Hongjoong doesn't dream.

The thumb that softly rubs the back of his hands brings him back from his slumber, and he shifts a little.

"Good morning." Seonghwa's quiet whisper echoes loudly in his mind and shocks him into recoiling back. Hongjoong's eyes lock with Seonghwa's, as he gets to his feet, ignoring the ache in his body from being hunched over for hours. Seonghwa's dark eyes never leave his, and Hongjoong isn't sure what he sees in them. However, he's aware of the numerous emotions that flicker in his own, and he watches as Seonghwa silently reads them. _Relief, anger, fear, exhaustion._

Hongjoong remains quiet, the urge to ask the questions on the tip of his tongue and the rant that wants to follow almost becoming unbearable. He doesn't have anything sweet or nice to say, so he remains rooted in his spot, eyes silently screaming everything he has built up in his chest.

Seonghwa's eyes take him in, as if assessing for any injuries, as if _Hongjoong_ was the one knocked out with a bullet in his fucking shoulder this morning. The thought causes him to scoff loudly, and Seonghwa's gaze immediately snaps back to his own. Biting his own tongue, Hongjoong drops his gaze and turns on his heel, fully intending on leaving the room, when the soft sound of Seonghwa's voice freezes him in his tracks.

"Hongjoong."

He remains where he is, back stiff and unmoving. He can't face Seonghwa now, because it'll just be like every other fucking time where he just falls into Seonghwa then just lets him almost slip through his fingers. He can't turn around, because his heart will betray him and his eyes will water with tears caused by pent up frustration. 

"Please look at me, Hongjoong." And Hongjoong hates himself, because when could he ever deny Seonghwa _anything?_

He slowly faces Seonghwa, and pointedly stares at his chin. Thankfully, Seonghwa knows not to push him further.

"Thank you," he says, "I'm grateful for you."

"Thank you," Hongjoong dully echoes, before a sharp exhale that sounds like a cross between a laugh and some disbelief leaves his lips, _"thank you?"_

"Hongjoong—"

"Are you thanking me for not letting you bleed out and _die_ on my couch, Seonghwa?" He catches Seonghwa's grimace at his sharp tone, but continues, voice raising subconsciously, "or are you thanking me so we can just forget about it until you next need me to play doctor?"

"Hongjoong, I—"

 _"I'm sick of this, Seonghwa!"_ Hongjoong voice pathetically breaks just as his misty eyes finally flit to lock with Seonghwa's widened ones.

So much for not saying anything. He might as well pour his heart out now.

And so, he does.

"I'm _tired_ , Seonghwa! I'm fucking sick– you don't seem to understand how– how much it's _killing_ me to always patch your ass up, having no idea what's caused you to look broken and battered in the first place!" Hongjoong runs a shaky hand through his dark locks, "you leave me guessing your whereabouts every fucking time, you have me worried sick whether I'll find you at my door or inside, bleeding out–"

His breath hitches, "you have me wondering whether I'll be too late to help you, Seonghwa."

The only thing Hongjoong knows of Seonghwa is his name and the taste of his lips. Anytime Hongjoong so much as attempts to get any other kind of information about Seonghwa, he's immediately shut down, whether it's with a tired silence, or with a lousy attempt at a topic change. And whether it's foolish of him or not is up to you to decide, but Hongjoong hasn't ever dared to push it in fear of Seonghwa not returning. In fear of having pushed Seonghwa to his limit, that he leaves Hongjoong guessing whether he's even fucking alive. Because no, Hongjoong doesn't even have his goddamn number.

For all he knows, Seonghwa may not even be his actual name.

The silence stretches between them, leaving Hongjoong feeling absolutely stupid for his outburst.

"Forget it." He tosses over his shoulder harshly as he stalks out of the living room. To his dismay, Seonghwa doesn't follow after him or apologise. Would Hongjoong even accept an apology? _What would it change_ , he sighs. 

Entering his room, Hongjoong leans against the door, effectively shutting it. He waits until the soft click of the front door is heard before sinking to his knees. He runs a hand through his hair and lets out a breath he didn't realise he was holding in.

The tears pooling in his eyes finally fall free, and Hongjoong allows himself to sob quietly.

Seonghwa leaves, and Hongjoong's heart follows.

  
  


***

Seonghwa entered Hongjoong's life almost eight months ago, in the most bizarre way two could meet.

The hospital seemed eerily quiet that night, not many A&E patients had been rushed in nor were there many doctors frantically dashing about. Hongjoong deemed it serene, as would many that work on the field. However, to the patients, the deathly silence may just be a mirror hanging before their loved ones.

Hongjoong remembers that night so clearly, how he was signing papers off for a patient at the reception desk, engaged in friendly conversation with the kind lady behind the desk. How the doors to the hallway burst open, doctors and nurses yelling urgently at the bystanders to move as they pushed a hospital bed along. Within seconds, Hongjoong was besides them, aiding them with the heavy bed.

The patient was covered in buckets of sticky blood, enough that Hongjoong genuinely wondered if this person was even alive.

"Thank you, Hongjoong." One of the doctors said in clear dismissal once they reached the doors to the surgery department.

Hongjoong straightened his back, eyes locked on the bed that was wheeled away, until the doors closed and obstructed his view.

He prayed, whoever it was, lived to see more days.

And fate has funny ways, because twelve hours later, Hongjoong was appointed nurse of the very same patient. Yeosang had filled him in on the details, and the patient was put under both their care. That was fine with Hongjoong, until Yeosang had pulled him to a side and mentioned something rather chilling.

"There's no records of this person, Hongjoong," He whispered, "this person quite literally doesn't exist."

Hongjoong furrowed his eyebrows, "what...does that mean?" 

Shrugging, Yeosang responded, "the ID card in his jean pocket is either fake, or he is an illegal immigrant. Something like that, I guess."

Before Hongjoong could say anything, Yeosang added, "you need to keep him here until the police arrive, we've handcuffed him to the bed so it shouldn't be too difficult."

With that, he was gone, mumbling something about a well deserved coffee.

Watching over the patient was not difficult, mostly because for two nights, he was unconscious. Hongjoong would quietly check his vitals, switch his pumps and the likes. But the question of who this man was constantly lingered in his mind. He paid it no heed, assuming once the patient woke up, his question would be answered.

On the third night, the patient gained consciousness.

Hongjoong barely opened his mouth before the man jolted up and frantically ripped out the wires attached to his arm.

"What are you doing?! You're not fully recovered yet!"

The man turned wild eyes on him, but Hongjoong remained rooted in place, "I need to fucking leave," his voice was hoarse from days of not speaking, and Hongjoong wanted to offer him a drink. But from the looks of it, his offer would be rejected.

"You need to wait, sir, there's a process before you just leave."

The man paid no heed to Hongjoong, he stalked towards the window instead.

Hongjoong, against his better judgment, reached out and wrapped a hand around his forearm.

"Wait, who are you?"

The man's gaze slowly traveled from Hongjoong's eyes down to where his hand met his arm, before flickering back up.

He lifts his other hand and removes Hongjoong's hand. The gesture is rejecting, but oddly gentle, and he replied, "someone you shouldn't be involved with."

And with that, the man was gone, and Hongjoong was left frozen in his post with a hysterical scream along with a fuckton of questions stuck in his throat.

Having to explain the patient jumped out of the window and escaped was an absolute bitch and Hongjoong was beyond relieved to finally, finally be over with his shift.

  
  


"Seonghwa."

The voice breaking the silence ripped an embarrassingly squeaky scream out of Hongjoong's throat. He whipped around, keys frozen in place just before the keyhole to the front door of his home. The shadows remained eerily quiet as Hongjoong squinted around, before a figure stepped out and a little under the street lamp above their head. Hongjoong's eyes lit with recognition once they met sharp black crystals.

The man from the hospital.

Before he could get a word out, the man, _Seonghwa_ spoke urgently, "I didn't follow you here," he quickly explained, "an acquaintance gave me this address and said a nurse would be able to help me."

Seonghwa shook his head, "I didn't know it'd be you. I'm sorry, I've caused you enough trouble—"

"Oh shut up already," Hongjoong rolled his eyes at the man's awkward ramble. It was endearing, even though Seonghwa hadn't lost any composure, Hongjoong could see the small glimmer of anxiety in his eyes.

"Come on in, you're injured, right?"

Seonghwa hesitated, before nodding, "the thing is, I can't tell you who directed me here."

Any signs of nervousness had vanished, and Seonghwa stood straighter than before.

"If that's a problem, you can turn me down. However, I can't share much information with you."

Closing his eyes, Hongjoong inhaled deeply. Did it matter if he got involved with one shady guy? He just wanted to help a person. And that's what he does, he's a nurse.

So, Hongjoong opened his eyes and titled his chin up to pin Seonghwa with a glare, "I don't care about them, I just want to help you so goddamnit, Seonghwa, let me help you before you lose any more blood."

And that was that.

  
***  
  


That night the lines blurred together, Hongjoong remembers it vividly.

Seonghwa had been injured per usual, and claimed his usual spot on the closed toilet lid. Hongjoong was before him, opening some cabinets in search for a specific bottle. He was conscious of the obsidian eyes that followed his every step around the space of his small bathroom, but chose to ignore it.

Finally, Hongjoong found what he was looking for, and a small sound of victory escaped his lips as he took a seat on the bathtub ledge besides Seonghwa. Small fingers reached out to turn Seonghwa's faces towards him, as to assess the damage better. Seonghwa's eyes remained intently locked with his own, and while Seonghwa's eyes had always gleamed intensely, tonight something was different. 

Hongjoong attempted to take no notice of it, as his own eyes travelled across the face before him. A cut split up the corner of Seonghwa's mouth, and a bruise adorned the high bone of his left cheek. His injuries tonight were definitely minor compared to what Hongjoong usually dealt with, and a part of Hongjoong wished to be delusional and read more into this. He slammed that door shut in his mind, the last thing he'd want to be thinking about is his feelings for the man right in front of him.

They let the silence embrace them as Hongjoong worked on cleaning up the bloodied lip. The gaze trained on him didn't waver, and it didn't bother Hongjoong much until that point.

"Are you going to tell me what happened this time, Seonghwa?" He spoke, voice light, not expecting an answer, because Hongjoong never received one, "or is there something else, something you need to say?"

Hongjoong internally scoffed at himself, he knew he was doing nothing but making a fucking fool out of himself. Seonghwa would remain silent, until he was done, then he'd let his fingers wrap around Hongjoong's wrist for a moment before whispering a quiet thank you or sorry. It had always been like this for the past two months, so nothing in this entire universe would have ever prepared Hongjoong for the words that left Seonghwa's mouth that night, nor the events that followed suit.

"You're beautiful." 

The words, whispered so sincerely, shocked Hongjoong enough to drop the stained cloth in his hand. He cursed, opting to reach down and pick it up to avoid Seonghwa's dark gaze, but Seonghwa beat him to it, hand wrapping around Hongjoong's wrist to keep him rooted in place. Suddenly, Hongjoong was hyper aware of the tiny distance between them. His eyes refused to meet Seonghwa's, heart pounding so harshly against his ribs.

"Hongjoong," Seonghwa's deep voice sent small shivers down Hongjoong's spine, "You're fucking beautiful."

The fingers that lifted Hongjoong's chin were careful, yet he still shuddered at the gesture. He gave way, eyes moving to lock with Seonghwa's. Something Hongjoong couldn't label flashed intensely in his gaze and caused Hongjoong's heart to skip count of it's beats. He held his breath, silently watching as Seonghwa's gaze flickered across his features, dipping down and lingering on his lips before slowly climbing back up to intensely bore into Hongjoong's eyes.

Black crystals peered into his soul, shredding through every part of Hongjoong's being before touching on the desire he buried so deep inside him. And it wasn't long before Hongjoong let his hand travel up towards the collar of Seonghwa's leather jacket and grip it tightly. Their noses bumped and brushed against each other as Hongjoong yanked him forward out of impatience,

"Seonghwa, if you don't fucking _kiss—"_

Hongjoong was abruptly cut off by the frantic press of lips against his, threat dying in his throat. 

Arms desperately reached for the other, and their kisses were urgent, Seonghwa kissed him like he'd disappear if they stopped, like tonight was their last moment in each others arms. Hongjoong leaned back, whispering a small, "careful," against his lips. The injury had reopened a little, and their kisses were tainted with the familiar taste of metal. 

Seonghwa fiercely shook his head, "I don't care."

He abruptly stood up, bringing Hongjoong with him, who followed willingly. Their kisses didn't stop as Hongjoong blindly led them out of the bathroom, and if anything, grew in desperation.

One of Seonghwa's hands travelled further down to Hongjoong's right thigh, fingers tapping twice on the soft fabric of his sweatpants. Hongjoong obeyed the silent message, jumping up enough for Seonghwa's hands to grip the back of thighs and hold his weight.

The new angle allowed Hongjoong to tilt Seonghwa's head up and lick into his mouth. He wrapped his arms around Seonghwa's neck, fingers digging slightly into his dark hair. 

Seonghwa's jaw fell slackened, intensity from before slightly burning out as he allowed Hongjoong's tongue to roam his mouth. Hongjoong swallowed Seonghwa's gasp when he sucked on his tongue, moving his lips to Seonghwa's ear before whispering,

"What do you want, Seonghwa?" The urge to please almost burnt Hongjoong whole. 

Seonghwa turned his head to meet Hongjoong's swollen lips again.

"Whatever you want to give me." The words, woven with honesty, were spoken into Hongjoong's mouth, who allowed Seonghwa to kiss him one last time before pulling away and brushing his teeth against his neck.

 _What if I want to give you everything?_ His soul bitterly cried.

  
  


The next morning greeted him in the form of clear skies and sunny rays of light. The night before seemed like a delusional dream his twisted mind conjured up for him as punishment for his feelings. The scribbled apology on the back of an envelope that was placed on his bedside, the bruises decorating his neck and hips and the ache in his body served as the only pieces of evidence that Seonghwa had been here.

Seonghwa left, and Hongjoong's heart followed.

  
  


***

"You look like shit," Yeosang never holds back.

Hongjoong merely throws a weak glare at him before taking a seat opposite him.

The hospital cafeteria is ironically buzzing with life, and Hongjoong managed to catch Yeosang on a small break.

"How's he doing?" Hongjoong is grateful that Yeosang lowers his voice, though nobody is seated nearby. He isn't grateful for the reminder, though.

He tries for an indifferent shrug and replies,"how would I know?"

It fails, because Yeosang's knowing eyes search his face before he leans back in his seat and announces, "I hate him."

"You haven't even met him."

"And I don't want to."

Hongjoong laughs a little, he knows Yeosang means it, and he prays the two never cross paths. 

While Hongjoong may have no idea what kind of person Seonghwa is, he knows meeting Yeosang wouldn't end well for him.

***

It's a little past midnight, when Hongjoong rounds the corner of the street to his apartment. Fatigue settles in his bones and all he can think of his throwing his tired body across his bed.

But of course, the universe has her own plans.

His feet halt their movements once his gaze lands on the body crouched over the steps to his home. 

Seonghwa.

Hongjoong hasn't seen Seonghwa since that night a week ago. The night he had a fucking bullet in his shoulder.

Without thinking, he rushes over.

"Where are you hurt?" Hongjoong eyes frantically search Seonghwa's body for any sign of an injury, and the latter slowly rises to his feet.

He holds his hands out in front of him, as though to calm Hongjoong.

"No, I'm okay." Seonghwa's voice is soft, and it tugs painfully at Hongjoong's weak heart.

His gaze snaps up to meet Seonghwa's eyes. If he isn't hurt, then why...

"I...wanted to speak to you," Seonghwa's face remains blank, but his eyes flicker with uncertainty and anxiety. As if Hongjoong will scoff in his face and walk off.

And he should, but Hongjoong is _weak._

"What," he licks his lips, "what do you want to talk about?"

"Should we...head inside first?" Seonghwa's eyes rake over Hongjoong figure. "You'll get cold."

"That depends on how long you want to speak." Hongjoong mumbles under his breath, but sidesteps Seonghwa to unlock the door.

"Come on in, then."

  
  
  


Hongjoong's apartment isn't anything fancy, it's a small one-bedroom that has a small balcony overlooking the busy street six floors beneath him.

He leads Seonghwa inside before heading to the kitchen.

"Do you want anything to drink?" He calls.

Seonghwa responds with a quiet, "no, thank you," and if it wasn't for the dead silence in the atmosphere, Hongjoong's ears wouldn't have picked up on it.

He returns after downing a glass of water himself, and leans against the wall across from Seonghwa.

A small silence takes over as Hongjoong quietly waits and Seonghwa wordlessly stares at the ground.

Hongjoong is content with Seonghwa taking his time, if there is anything he's learnt from dealing with the other man, it's that time and patience is a necessity.

And soon enough, Seonghwa opens his mouth to speak.

"I'm sorry," his voice is quiet, Seonghwa is always quiet, "I'm sorry for constantly worrying you. For not being able to tell you anything–"

_"What? Will you have to kill me if you tell me?" Hongjoong laughs._

_"You know how the saying goes," Seonghwa grins, "two can only keep a secret if one of them is dead, Hongjoong."_

"It's not that I don't want to, Hongjoong, i want to tell you _everything_ – but I...can't."

Before Hongjoong opens his mouth, Seonghwa shakes his head firmly, "I refuse to involve you in all of this, that would be rather selfish of me."

He lets out a small sigh before picking up his head to lock desperate eyes with Hongjoong's surprised ones. He whispers, "I won't let you get hurt, not at all and definitely not because of me."

"Seonghwa–"

"And I know, I know it's so goddamn fucking _annoying_ ," he hisses, "having to constantly be left in the dark. And I'm sorry. But...I'd rather you loathe me instead of putting your life in danger, Hongjoong."

"And if this upsets you further, I understand. If you no longer want anything to do with me because I can't provide you the answers you seek, I understand. If you don't want to see me again," Seonghwa's face ever so slightly falls, "I understand."

Hongjoong is speechless. In all honesty, he doesn't know how he feels. Seonghwa's eyes carefully flit across his face, waiting for any twist in Hongjoong's expression. But he remains blank.

In truth, Hongjoong doesn't _know_ what to do. Every part of his body screams at him to turn a cold shoulder and let Seonghwa go. Because if he refuses to tell him anything, then he remains a stranger. 

_But what kind of stranger does Hongjoong allow into the comfort of his home? What kind of stranger does he gently wipe dried blood away from his beautiful lips, or hold an ice pack tenderly against the bruised skin of deep obsidian eyes?_

_What kind of stranger has had Hongjoong pressed up against the wall, swallowing each of his gasps as his fingers find home on every part of his body?_

_What kind of stranger does he wrap his arms around tightly, when the world caves in on them and everything feels like it'll fall apart?_

The thought of never seeing Seonghwa again, the idea of having to wonder whether he's okay or even _alive_ leaves a bitter taste on Hongjoong's tongue. 

His body yells at him to let go in order to protect himself, yet his mind and heart are made up.

"Seonghwa,"he slowly starts. Upon hearing the soft tone of Hongjoong's voice, Seonghwa flinches a litte. The action rips at Hongjoong, because Seonghwa must have been so prepared for a rejection. 

"Seonghwa, you're idiotic to believe for one second that i will let you go." Hongjoong laughs a short laugh, the entire idea of leaving Seonghwa is just _laughable._

"It is annoying, it drives me fucking _crazy,"_ he pays no heed to Seonghwa's minute wince, "it kills me to let you go back out there, it fucking hurts and I spend my time constantly worrying about you. And it does bother me that I know next to nothing about you. It does cross my mind that I only know what you've shown me to be like, I only know who you are from who you choose to be around me. And Seonghwa, _I would be crazy to let that go."_

Hongjoong shakes his head, the familiar blur of tears fills his vision and he blinks them away. He doesn't look up, too afraid of what he might see in Seonghwa's eyes.

"But," he continues, "I am not _fragile,_ Seonghwa. Let _me_ decide what's dangerous for me. You can't keep me completely away from all bad things. You can't keep me sheltered. Say, what if something happened, how would I know you were okay? I don't even have your phone number." Hongjoong wants to ask other things, like Seonghwa's favourite colour, favourite music artist, favourite dish, but a small part of him decides against it, fear of seeming too attached winning. 

Seonghwa's expression twitches in the slightest, but Hongjoong doesn't give him the chance to interrupt him.

"I don't want you to leave, I don't want you to never return. I don't want you to bleed out elsewhere while I'm right here." He shrugs before adding, "I don't want you to hurt, but if I can't stop that, then I won't. But I will be here to fix you up." 

He pauses, letting the lids of his eyes slowly shut. He tries to picture it, a life without Seonghwa. Days gone without his silent laugh and silly pick up lines. Nights spent without being held between the familiar pair of arms Hongjoong's come to call as warmth, home and– his heart cries at the last word– _love_.

It's uncomfortable, his heart refuses to settle on such thoughts. Hongjoong doesn't open his eyes, instead choosing to softly whisper into the quiet air of his apartment. The words are so painfully honest, Hongjoong bares his heart as though Seonghwa isn't present and stood on the receiving end.

_"I want to live happily with you, Seonghwa. I don't want to think about you dying, not you. Never you."_

The silence stretches so painfully between them as Seonghwa stares at him and, for a moment, Hongjoong wonders if he said the wrong thing. If maybe, he sounded too honest for whatever they are. His entire soul cries painfully at the thought of Seonghwa walking away, after Hongjoong laid himself naked of lies and pretences, but he refuses to show it, fighting to keep any emotion off his face.

Nervousness colours him a little and regret starts pooling in his mind when Seonghwa next opens his mouth and throws Hongjoong very off-guard.

"Close your eyes." Seonghwa whispers softly.

Slowly, Hongjoong obeys, heart beating frantically in his chest. He hears Seonghwa take a couple of more steps forward, until he is nothing more than a foot away from Hongjoong. His ears register the wet, shuddering breath Seonghwa takes, and Hongjoong wonders whether he is crying. A stinging ache runs through him at the image of Seonghwa's face wet with tears. His eyes remain closed, and he brings up both his hands, slowly reaching forward in barely concealed urgency to reach the soft skin of Seonghwa's beautiful face. Warm hands gently grasp his own, guiding them to Seonghwa's cheeks. Hongjoong's thumbs wipe under Seonghwa's eyes, and he feels his entire resolve crumble like a wall made of sand when the damp feeling of salty tears soak the skin of his thumbs.

"Don't cry, Seonghwa–" his own voice catches and trembles, "Seonghwa, why are you crying?"

Seonghwa's head shakes a little under his hold, before leaning forward and resting heavily on his shoulder.

"Seonghwa," Hongjoong croaks, "stop crying, speak to me."

Seonghwa merely chuckles, the sound beautifully melancholic. It's only when he gently wipes at his damp cheeks does Hongjoong realise that his tears are also freely flowing.

"I never wanted you to see me like this," Seonghwa whispers, voice thick with emotion and tears, "I never wanted to cry in front of _you."_

A bitter laugh is ripped out of Hongjoong's throat as he thinks back to their first meeting, "I've seen you almost kiss death, Seonghwa. I've never once viewed you as weak. Not then and definitely not now."

The tiny sob Seonghwa lets out is the cause of Hongjoong's fingers lifting his head. Their noses brush against each other softly as Seonghwa leans his head against Hongjoong's. And it's all too much for Hongjoong, the sounds of his and Seonghwa's small cries filling the non-existent space between them.

Hongjoong cries for Seonghwa, blissfully unaware that Seonghwa is crying for him.

"Seonghwa–"

"Can I … Hongjoong, can I kiss you?" The raw honesty in his low voice causes Hongjoong to immediately swallow his own words. The urgency and _something_ _else_ that's laced into Seonghwa's words makes Hongjoong feel an immense difference between now and every other time they've kissed. A twisted part of his mind aches to label it _love_ , but Hongjoong shuts it down immediately, refusing to entertain the idea that his feelings could possibly be reciprocated. His heart painfully squeezes, but it doesn't stop him from nodding, sucking in a small, sharp breath once he feels ice cold fingers against the warm skin of his cheek. His eyes remain closed as they ever so gently tilt his face up. The warm breath on his skin feels electrifying and he represses the urge to tremble as a shiver runs down his back.

And then, a pair of lips brush against his even more tenderly. He's immediately filled to the brim with warmth, _so much warmth._

It makes his lips curl into a small smile against Seonghwa's, it forces an arm to come up and coil around his neck. His other hand finds home on the broad planes of Seonghwa's chest. Then, Seonghwa presses his lips against his harder, thousands of unspoken emotions spilling between their lips, all the times he couldn't quite manage to word well enough to simply say. A hand comes to land on the small of Hongjoong's back, holding him there so softly that it feels like it's barely there. It's only when Hongjoong's teeth scrape lightly over Seonghwa's bottom lip, in the way he knows Seonghwa likes it, does he feel the hand tighten and rein him in, pull him closer. Hongjoong's lips fall open, allowing Seonghwa to lick into his mouth a little desperately. He gasps, the hand resting on Seonghwa's chest moving to cup his jaw as Hongjoong fiercely kisses back. He pushes his tongue against Seonghwa's, enthralled by the breathy gasp pushed into his mouth. It's weird, having the usually composed Seonghwa breathe and move just as desperately against him. But Hongjoong is _thrilled_ to be the person pulling the beautiful sounds out of him and having them dissolve on his tongue.

Seonghwa's hands grasp Hongjoong's hips lightly, and if it wasn't for the wall that he's been pushed up against, Hongjoong's body would have hit the ground at the feeling of Seonghwa's hot lips against the skin under his jaw.

But, it's gone just as quick.

What feels like forever is actually over within a few moments, and Hongjoong's eyes remain shut as he focuses on catching his breath.

There's a soft press against his forehead, and he feels Seonghwa's breath fan his face for a second.

He waits until he can hear Seonghwa take a step back and breathlessly whisper, "you can open your eyes."

Slowly, as if not to break a trance, Hongjoong's eyes flutter open. They zero onto the man before him, who's chest visibly rises and drops a little faster than usual.

A pregnant pause fills the air between them, in which Hongjoong is unsure of what to say or do. Seonghwa, on the other hand, seems to just gaze at him, bright eyes flickering with so much openness. 

A moment passes where Seonghwa simply locks dark eyes with Hongjoong, and he pours his whole heart into it, in hopes Seonghwa will _read._

Slowly, Hongjoong reaches his hand out, and waits. Seonghwa raises a brow at first, before realising Hongjoong is waiting for him to close the distance. Leaving no room for hesitation, Seonghwa's palm meets Hongjoong's. Their fingers interlock and Seonghwa watches how their hands compliment each other's, how they were shaped for each other. He lifts his eyes to glance at Hongjoong, but the other is already looking at him, eyes burning brightly with...with—

"You love me," the words are whispered ever so gently, as realisation from earlier dawns on Seonghwa's face. But it still slaps Hongjoong so harshly, he immediately tenses up. He tries to remove his grip on Seonghwa's hand, but the fingers interlocking with his don't allow it.

"I do," Hongjoong tries to shrug casually, "and I'm sorry."

"No, what?" Seonghwa pulls him closer and his eyes colour with confusion, "why are _you_ sorry, Hongjoong? If anything, I should be."

"Why should you be sorry?"

"Because," he lowers his gaze before quietly continuing, "you deserve better than someone like me."

Hongjoong lets out a bitter chuckle and lowers their hands. Who is Seonghwa to tell his heart what to choose? Hongjoong is so sure, in a million lives, his heart would cruelly choose the same man over and over.

"Let _me_ decide," he reminds Seonghwa, "let me choose for myself," he shakes his head, "and why does it matter, if you do not feel what I feel, anyways?"

The pause that fills the air is enough confirmation for Hongjoong, and he moves his hand away. This time, Seonghwa lets him. Hongjoong turns to move away, he refuses to stand there and continue looking like an idiot after baring his heart. But he doesn't get far before an arm snakes around his waist and holds him gently in place.

"Wait, don't go. Please," Seonghwa's voice begs him quietly, warm breath fanning his ear, "hear me out, Hongjoong."

"If you're going to be rejecting me, Seonghwa, then make it quick." His voice doesn't shake, and Hongjoong internally applauds himself for it.

"No, what," Seonghwa has the audacity to let out a small laugh, "Hongjoong...I'm fucking in love with you."

Hongjoong wouldn't be exaggerating if he says the breath was knocked out of him. He rapidly twists around in Seonghwa's hold, eyes flitting across his face. 

"You're, _what?"_ Tears gather in his eyes and his mind fucking laughs at him for it, but this makes no sense. _Seonghwa,_ in love with _Hongjoong?_

" _Don't_ fucking lie to me like that."

"Lie?" Seonghwa's eyebrows inch to words his hairline with how high he raises them, "Hongjoong, I just _kissed_ you—"

"You've kissed me before, that could have meant anything!"

Seonghwa lets go of him to firmly grasp his hands, "it could have,"he easily agrees, "but it didn't. I love you, Hongjoong, and that's why I'm sorry. You deserve better than someone who can't give you answers, someone who can't always be there for you. You're precious, Hongjoong, and people like me? I can only hurt you." Seonghwa's eyes shine with unshed tears as he sadly shakes his head, his hold on Hongjoong loosening a little, "never in a million years did I think you would ever feel the same for me, so I took what you gave me and gave what you'd take. I didn't dare bring it up, because how _dare_ I fall in love with you, while keeping you in the dark about everything I am?"

Hongjoong firmly shakes his head, "no, Seonghwa. I can't hold your feelings against you."

Hongjoong removes one of his hands from Seonghwa's hold, only to flatten it on his chest, just above his pounding heart. He allows a small quiet to creep in while Seonghwa hands drop to Hongjoong's sides, travelling down to clutch his hips and pull him in. The urge to be closer to him is evident in Seonghwa's actions, and Hongjoong lets him lean his forehead against his own.

  
  


Dating Seonghwa, Hongjoong learns, isn't much different. They don't go on fancy dates, or much at all besides the occasional night time movement. It doesn't upset Hongjoong, he knew dating Seonghwa wouldn't be like any typical relationship and so he doesn't expect that much.

And that's not a terrible thing, because it only leads to Hongjoong's genuine surprise and happiness when incidents, like bouquets of flowers appearing on his balcony with a note signed _mars_ , take place. 

Hongjoong finds himself feeling the happiest he has in a relationship, with Seonghwa's unexpected visits that aren't always him covered in blood. In fact, there's lesser moments of Seonghwa visiting whilst injured, and when Hongjoong jokingly asks if he's found a new nurse, Seonghwa simply locks eyes with him and smiles, _"I've found someone to come back to every night,"_ it causes Hongjoong to flush and divert his eyes.

He feels like he's soaring, dating Seonghwa. He allows himself to feel, allows himself to freely roam his hands all over Seonghwa's body and fuel his touches with _love_ when they lean against each other, lips pressed against each other. Sometimes desperately, but other times it's slow, passionate kisses that lead to him intimately pressing into Seonghwa. It's moments that lead to Hongjoong whispering confessions that feel like burning oaths against Seonghwa's lips, who returns them fervently. 

He allows himself to _love_ Seonghwa, he allows himself to fall and trust Seonghwa.

Seonghwa doesn't open up to him, and Hongjoong doesn't expect him to. He trusts Seonghwa, and it's unhealthy and fucked up, but nothing was normal from the beginning, nothing is normal about constantly having to tend to the bloody injuries of a handsome stranger in the middle of night.

Seonghwa opens up in different ways though.

"Blue." Seonghwa's arms were wrapped around Hongjoong's thinner frame as they laid under his covers. Hongjoong eyes had been closed and ha'd been on the verge of surrendering to the heavy blankets of slumber before Seonghwa broke the silence and jerked him back. His eyes flew open and it took him a moment to process.

"Blue?" Hongjoong repeated in confusion. Seonghwa's arms tightened slightly, before raising a hand to brush back Hongjoong's hair. The action was intimate, Hongjoong still unused to _this_ kind of attention from the other. But he welcomed it and almost fell back asleep had it not been for Seonghwa's deep voice again.

"My favourite colour," he responded, "blue is my favourite colour. You asked me, a while back."

Hongjoong remembered, it had been during one of their first few meetings, where Hongjoong had been exasperated at the lack of Seonghwa's responses and had thrown the question at him randomly and mostly sarcastically. He didn't expect Seonghwa to remember.

"I'm sorry, for taking this long to respond," Seonghwa let out a small, embarrassed sound.

"It's okay, I'm surprised you remember," Hongjoong shook his head, "mine's red."

"I know," Seonghwa smiled, leaving a soft kiss on his forehead before allowing the silence to cover them warmly once again.

It surprises Hongjoong when Seonghwa tells him other things too, his favourite dish, his favourite film and others. Hongjoong had quietly told him it was okay, that he didn't need to feel pressured to talk about himself, that Hongjoong can wait for him. However, Seonghwa's hand simply squeezed his gently while he whispered back, _"I want to."_

It gives Hongjoong a glimpse of _Seonghwa_. When he describes some of his hobbies, a glint of excitement dances in his eyes. And Hongjoong gets to see him for who he is instead of who he shows himself to be. Long gone are the nights where Seonghwa would don on a blank face and dull eyes filled with emptiness.

Even on the nights that brought an injured Seonghwa to Hongjoong's doorstep, the love and adoration for Hongjoong would flicker in his dark eyes. Hongjoong would be scolding him for not being careful, but Seonghwa's eyes would be trained on his moving lips, until he'd huff and sigh, _"you're not listening to me, are you?"_

Seonghwa wouldn't even bother lying, he'd shake his head immediately and lean forward to close the gap between their lips. Which Hongjoong would reject, slapping a palm gently over Seonghwa's mouth and continuing his act of scolding the other.

 _"Hwa,"_ He'd sigh with faux exasperation, fighting to keep the smile of his lips, _"you need to be careful, okay?"_

Hongjoong is a weak man, he'd glance at Seonghwa's huge eyes filled with teasing but tinged with a small plea, before giving in and allowing their lips to meet. Because who was he to deny Seonghwa anything?

  
***

In present time, the doorbell rings, stirring a sleepy Hongjoong up from his position on the couch. The telly plays an old soap drama, one which he was currently engrossed with. Hongjoong throws a quick glance at his phone as he makes his way to answer the front door. It's nearing five in the morning, and only one person would be behind Hongjoong's closed door at this hour.

He swings the door open without checking through the peephole, which a small part of his mind scolds him for, but he finds he's too tired to care much.

Before him stands Seonghwa, clad in black from head to toe.

There's no blood, Hongjoong immediately notes. It's more out of habit now, even though Seonghwa now visited because he _wanted_ to, Hongjoong still checks for injuries first thing. Perhaps it's due to Hongjoong's profession, but he's sure it's because it's _Seonghwa._

Seonghwa looks far from injured, he holds a carrier bag filled with items in one hand, the other reaching forward and tipping Hongjoong's chin forward to place a soft kiss on his lips in greeting. Hongjoong reciprocates it absentmindedly, mind filled with curiosity regarding the items Seonghwa brought with him.

"Hey." Seonghwa whispers against his lips, before pulling back a little and gently walking them backwards into the apartment.

Hongjoong hums in response before pointing at the bag, "what's that?" he asks, tilting his head a little.

A hand runs through his hair gently as Seonghwa smiles a little. Hongjoong feels his heart stutter at the light look Seonghwa sends him.

"You've been busy lately, and I know you haven't been eating well," he moves towards the kitchen, and Hongjoong trails after him, "a look in your fridge told me you didn't have enough time to go grocery shopping," he hesitates a little, and it doesn't go unnoticed, "so I bought you some things."

And Hongjoong…

Hongjoong feels warmth explode in his chest, till it burns him, fuelling the tears that gather in his eyes. He feels the stress from the past week come crashing down on him, shoulders slumping down from the weight, tears rolling down his cheeks. He takes a few steps in Seonghwa's direction, dropping his head onto his chest and allowing a heavy exhale to leave his lips.

Seonghwa raises his arms a little in surprise, clearly not having Hongjoong crying on his list of possible reactions. Hongjoong can't blame him, he also can't explain why he's crying over fucking _groceries._

The past week has been tough on Hongjoong. Between frantically running around the hospital to tend to patients and being called in in his off hours to cover for missing colleagues, Hongjoong has barely seen Seonghwa or even Yeosang, who shares workplaces with him. It feels like Hongjoong's been running on a high, too fast to even afford a stutter, but his finish line came in the form of Seonghwa and his warm hold.

"Sorry," Hongjoong lets out a watery chuckle, "I'm just really...thankful."

Seonghwa's arms come to wrap around him, before rocking them gently. Hongjoong feels the soft pressure of Seonghwa's lips on his head, and his eyes almost begin watering again.

"I'm glad, I was hoping you wouldn't take it in the wrong way…" Seonghwa trails off.

Shaking his head, Hongjoong mumbles his words in Seonghwa's chest, "no, I'm grateful, Seonghwa. You're...you're allowed to take care of me." He raises his head, chin slightly digging into Seonghwa's chest.

"I will." Seonghwa's arms tighten around Hongjoong, and he lets out an airy sigh and moves his head back to its previous position, heart expanding impossibly wide, filled with love for the man before him.

He closes his eyes once he feels Seonghwa rest his head against his, still swaying them slightly as a comfortable silence covers them warmly.

It's nice. On some days, they simply held each other silently, allowing their actions to speak instead, and this morning was one of them. 

Fatigue seeps into his body, weighing him down and almost taking him under, until Seonghwa's soothing voice grabs his attention again.

"When do you need to go?"

Hongjoong hums, "what time is it now?"

He feels one of Seonghwa's arms drop and fumble with his pockets, before answering, "almost five-thirty."

He lets out a groan, before burying his head further into Seonghwa, "I start at seven, I have about thirty minutes to get ready."

He sighs, tightening his arms around Seonghwa, before dropping them and stepping back a little. The movement causes Seonghwa's arms to fall back to his sides, but Hongjoong links their fingers.

"When will I next see you?" He asks, watching as Seonghwa hums and thinks the question through.

"I can try dropping by tonight, or tomorrow morning."

Hongjoong nods, and allows Seonghwa to pull him for a "goodbye" kiss.

And if he ends up walking into work a little late because Seonghwa's kisses led to a little more, it's no one's business. 

💛

**Author's Note:**

> The title, Kintsugi, is a type of Japanese art. Where broken things, like bowls and pots are fixed with gold. It's beautiful, and when seonghwa and hongjoong mend their broken and unhealthy relationship with gold, it'll also be beautiful. 
> 
> Thank you for reading :)


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